‘And what about the river? Do you think we should have crossed over it as we left the town? What if we’re on the wrong side of it?’

It was a good point. It would have been useful to have more information about the directions: I didn’t particularly want to arrive looking wet and muddy as well as hot and sweaty. I wanted to arrive looking calm, together, and the best I could – given that I’d been stranded on a mythological horror story for ages. Slim chance, though, particularly with people waving bits of stupid grass at me.

‘I guess we should probably just stick close to the river,’ said Kate cheerfully. ‘If we do that we’ll get there eventually.’

We walked on further, but the grass was becoming long and dense. There were low, hidden layers of nettles and brambles which jagged and caught at our arms as we passed, and patches of cow parsley as big as small trees, the heads of the plants splayed out like alien umbrellas swaying above us, shielding us from the sun. The narrow path we were following was now barely even visible, and I was trying really hard not to think too much about what had made the trail in the first place. We could still see clearly over the river to the other side, but the water was muddy and I remembered all of our discussions about whether kriks needed seawater . . . or just any water. I didn’t want to have the others make fun of me again, but I didn’t really feel safe.

The others had all gone silent now: it was hard to talk when you were walking in single file. I tried to distance myself from Kate, who was immediately in front of me, but the only escape route would be out into the river anyway, and Lana had obviously forgotten our rules about spreading out, because she was only a foot behind me. Up ahead, James had slowed down the pace, so we were dangerously bunched together.

‘What do you think we should do?’ called Lana from the back. ‘Is this a good way?’

‘If we push through here we’ll make a lot of noise,’ said James, stopping altogether.

‘We’ve been making a lot of noise anyway. Your frigging octopus impressions weren’t exactly quiet,’ snapped Lana crossly. ‘If we go back, we’ll be going back through a place where we can’t see very well . . . and where anything that’s been following us will be hiding now. I think it’s too risky. I think we have to go on.’

‘Well, you can lead if you want, because I can’t see what’s in the grass, the path has gone and the ground is boggy. I don’t think going on is a good idea.’

‘Maybe we could push through the grass to the side and make a path up to the road?’ suggested Kate.